


No Idea Why

by immawriteyouthings



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarrow!Reader, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 01:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14274168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immawriteyouthings/pseuds/immawriteyouthings
Summary: "I need you to do something for me.”“Really.”“What I need you to do,” he stated, serious as you’d ever seen him, “is to tell Thorin that we’re courting.”“…Come again?”





	No Idea Why

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an ancient drabble request around the phrase, “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course, I’m in.” and one of them princes. I picked Kili. 
> 
> Originally posted on [tumblr](https://immawriteyouthings.tumblr.com/post/170348834766/no-idea-why)

_“Y/N!”_

You paused mid-stride, your foot floating just above the earth. Was someone saying your name? Or were you hearing things?

_“Hey! Y/N!”_

No, that was definitely your name. You spun around, expecting to see someone you knew. There weren’t many people about the marketplace at this time of day, so it should’ve been easy to spot someone trying to get your attention. But as you eyed those around you, it seemed everyone was otherwise engaged – chatting or shopping or on their way in one direction or another. Huh. You were about to move on and chalk this one up to an ancient echoing mountain when you heard it again.

_“Y/N! Over here!”_

Your eyes slowly lowered to a large stack of barrels beside a popular pub. Great. Barrels were speaking to you now. Maybe it was time to cut back on your ale. You started as a hand popped out of one such barrel and beckoned you toward the pile, only to disappear again. Was approaching a phantom hand in a barrel pile wise? Perhaps not, but you were curious and armed, so what could be the harm?

You casually walked toward the stack, hand on sword, anticipating an empty barrel and a careful reflection on your sanity, only to encounter a pair of familiar wide brown eyes looking up at you in desperation.

“Kili. I should have known.”

“Hello, Y/N.” Kili had somehow forced himself down into the barrel, sitting on his knees and looking very much like a guilty puppy.

“What are you doing in there? Are you that nostalgic for the quest?” you asked and leaned against the pub wall. “Shall I get you some fish? Or an apple?”

“No. Get in here and I’ll explain.”

“You must be confusing me with Bilbo because I’m afraid I’m not going to fit.”

“Just–  _please_?”

“Can’t I speak to you from out here? Or, better yet,  _can’t you come out?_ ”

Kili’s face fell, his eyes somehow managing to go wider and his lip sticking out. It quivered just above his chin in an absolutely pathetic display. Adorable, mind, but still pathetic. You sniffed and eyed the sour-smelling used barrels with disgust, then let your head fall back against the wall. Dammit, you were getting far too soft. “Better be a good explanation.”

Kili made a small noise of triumph as you stepped into the barrel, easing yourself down until you were all but straddling his lap, your knees bent at extreme angles. It was a large barrel – dwarves, as a rule, are fond of their ale – but still a tight squeeze.

“Okay. Now that we’re both adequately squished. What’s going on?”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Really.”

“What I need you to do,” he stated, serious as you’d ever seen him, “is to tell Thorin that we’re courting.”

“…Come again?”

“He’s decided, in his infinite wisdom–”

“As King.”

“ _As a prat_ , that I need to begin searching for a partner.”

“What brought this on?”

“I don’t know!” he said incredulously and you raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t!” You inclined your head. Kili sighed and quickly explained, “I may or may not have arrived at a certain council meeting a bit… worse for wear, but I wasn’t nearly as bedraggled as he made me out to be!”

“Partook in a bit too much drink, did we?”

“I overslept! And forgot to bathe. Or braid my hair. Or brush it. For the fifth time this week. But never mind that! Now he has it in his head that I need someone to look after me.”

“Aw, he thinks you need a governess.”

“I am not a child,” he said and you laughed. Long and hard. Kili glowered.

You gathered yourself, pretending to wipe a rogue tear from your eye. “And your mother agrees with this notion?”

“Oh, she finds it endlessly amusing. Won’t talk sense into him, just smiles and nods and laughs.” He gave you a pointed look. “The  _traitor_.”

“Ha! I knew I adored your mother.”

“You’re a monster.”

“And you want something from this monster,” you said, “Which is to lie to Thorin. Your uncle. The king.”

“Yes.”

“ _Treason_.”

“Yes.”

“Lovely. Though that really doesn’t explain why we’re both in a barrel. Again.”

The last time you were in this position you were careening down a river, sopping wet and pressed bodily against your dear friend and comrade. You were a bit more frightened and pumped full of adrenaline back then, but the position was very much the same. Drier, thankfully.

“There’s a lass out there,” he whined.

“Oh, I see. Your future wife is out there.” You waggled your eyebrows and arched out of the barrel to peek.

Kili pulled you back. “Have you gone mad? She’ll see you!”

“And think what?  _‘Oh, there’s a strange person in the barrels. Poor thing must be a marvelously good, self-sacrificing friend! Now, wherever has my sweet, darling princeling got to?’”_

“Oh, don’t say that,” he groaned and leaned back in anguish.

“Say what?” you asked innocently and fluttered your lashes, affecting a high-pitched sugar-sweet voice, “ _'My dearest Kili-coo, shall we promenade along the battlements beneath the stars and gaze into each other’s eyes?’_ ”

He snorted. “Kili-coo?”

“Sounds asinine enough.”

“Ugh. And it sounds far too much like her.”

“Really? I was jesting.”

“She’s high-ranking. Forceful. Strong. And far too fond of pet names.”

“Ah. Thorin has found you a governess,” you ribbed, then let yourself consider, “Or he genuinely thinks she’d be a good match.”

“I do not know and do not wish to know what he thinks in this… arena,” he said with a grimace, “And furthermore, I’d rather make up my own mind, thanks.”

“Oh, Kili, I am touched.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s only to get him off my case. We’ll end the 'courtship’ amicably and quietly in a few weeks. Hopefully, by then he’ll have re-prioritized and will be more worried about… I don’t know, elves.”

“More than he always is?” you joked and Kili gave you a serious look, which you reciprocated, though mockingly. “What’s in it for me?”

“My company for several weeks, of course. A royal appointment. Status. Riches. All of the ale you can drink. A new sword. Swords?” He watched your face grow more and more skeptical, and in turn, his suggestions grew more frantic, “Uhhh… my bow. My room. My crown. Fili. _I will give you Fili._ ”

“I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“He’d be fine. So, will you do it?”

“Gods, Kili.  **This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had,** ” you said and Kili’s face fell. “ **Of course I’m in.** ”

He embraced you, aggressively, nearly sending the barrel rocking, "Yes! You brilliant, brilliant girl! I’ll have to convince Fili to–”

“I don’t need Fili, for Durin’s sake.”

“Then what?”

What  _did_  you want? An opportunity like this couldn’t go to waste on a mere whim or the first of a million thing that ran through your head. No, you’d take your time and carefully consider your options before making a decision. Leaving him in agonized suspense would be amusing in the meantime. “I will choose my price.  _In time._ ”

“You are evil incarnate.”

“I know. Now let’s get out of here before my knees lock up.”

 

* * *

 

Kili led you from the barrels quickly enough, darting through the markets and away from his potential match as though the poor dam was out for blood. Soon enough you were wandering the halls aimlessly, discussing your new arrangement and how to break the news to Thorin.

“We’ll need to be… confident. Resolute. Unflinching.”

“Ah. Our courtship is  _very serious_ ,” you pouted around the last two words, mangling them into baby talk.

“He’ll only believe us if we’re serious! We’ll have to be careful, go to him on our own terms and announce it, as is tradition – he loves tradition – have our stories straight and it should all go–”

“KILI.”

“Good timing, that,” you quipped as Thorin rounded a corner, fire glinting in his eyes. He was dressed for court and trailed by Balin and Ori, clearly come from some sort of meeting – a long one, based on how many papers Ori had gathered in his arms. You could barely see the top of the scribe’s head over the stack.

“Kili, would you kindly explain to me why you’ve upset Lady Edermer so?”

“Uh.”

“She was deeply offended by your antics and burst into the hall like you’d set her hair on fire.”

“Uncle.” He took a breath. “I need to–”

“What you need to do is pay more attention to how you present yourself, I cannot keep–”

“Y/N and I–”

“Do not change the subject. You may not be heir, but your standing amongst the court is just as–”

“But–”

“No, Kili, this is not some game for you to–”

“We’re courting!” you squeaked suddenly and all eyes snapped on you. “I mean, uh, we’re, um, we needed to, uh,  _Kili_.” You elbowed Kili in the side.

“Right! Uncle, I’m in love. That’s why I ran from Lady Eggsmear.”

“Edermer.”

“Whatever. I ran out of fidelity to Y/N.”

The group stood silent for a moment, then Kili snatched your hand and held it up, as though presenting evidence.

Thorin cleared his throat. “What?”

“I’m courting Y/N? I hope that she’ll consent to be my wife? I intend to… marry her?” You cringed at the way his voice rose in pitch, each statement turning into a feeble, uncertain question.

You scratched at your nose and mumbled, “So much for unflinching.”

Kili shushed you.

“How long has this been going on?” Thorin asked, his voice pitching to interrogation levels, rough yet quiet, as though daring you to attempt a lie.

“Since the battle,” Kili said without hesitation, his voice surprisingly firm.

“I see.” The king shifted, looking between the pair of you. “And why am I only finding out now?

"Y/N is a private person. She has forbidden me from singing ballads or writing poetry or getting tattoos of her name or screaming from the ramparts or–”

“Bless you, Y/N.”

“What can I say? I can’t stand him,” you sighed, looking down at your joined hands, “but unfortunately I can’t stand without him.”

Kili looked a bit shocked, bringing the hand not clinging yours to his chest. “Y/N, I– Wow.”

“Oh shut up, you great clod.”

“Anything you say,  _darling_.”

“I will stab you, courting or no.”

Thorin laughed, his booming voice filling the corridor, and clapped Kili on the shoulder (thankfully the jolt released you from Kili’s death-grip). The King pulled him in to affectionately press their foreheads together. “A wise choice. I am happy for you.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

Thorin patted his shoulder again and pulled away, smiling fondly. “I’ll deal with Lady Edermer. She is… honestly, quite a nuisance, but unfortunately influential in several guilds. Mahal knows how she managed such a feat. Y/N?”

“Yes?”

Thorin pulled you into a similar embrace and before you could think your forehead was pressed to the King’s. His crown was a bit pointy. “Keep him in line, won’t you?”

“Not a problem.”

“Hey,” Kili objected.

Thorin laughed once more, retreating several steps as the pair of you squabbled quietly. “I will leave you be. Though do not tell your mother, she will have my head if she knew I left you without a chaperone. And truly, Kili, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Thorin took his leave, smiling warmly and nodding to you both. Ori, for his part, offered a muffled congratulations through the papers and Balin chuckled as he followed. As soon as the group disappeared around the corner, Kili whooped and lifted you off the ground into an enthusiastic embrace.

“We’ve done it!” he cheered.

“Put me down.” You smacked at his head and he set you back on your feet, still grinning like a fool. “Yes, it appears we did. But that was remarkably easy. Almost too easy. Wouldn’t he wonder about–”

“Eh, he’s happy, I’m happy.” Kili shrugged. “Now, I’m off to find myself a bite to eat. Care to join me, dearest heart?” He stuck out an arm, which you took.

“I believe I shall, my strange barrel-dwarf.”

 

* * *

 

It was far easier than you thought, courting. It was mostly what you’d always done with Kili, just with more…  _touching_. Kili was intrinsically affectionate but now that trait seemed to have grown exponentially. Holding your hand, frequent embraces that lingered, twirling your hair on his fingers, it was all very…  _sweet_.

He also rarely left you alone, trailing after you and lighting up when you entered a room, which to your surprise you found was adorable. Also mildly annoying, particularly when you had things to do and he kept getting in the way with his hands and his face and his…  _him_. Regardless, you would endure, for your friendship and for your future prize. Which you hadn’t quite figured out yet. You began to keep a running list of possibilities in your head, adding and subtracting based on plausibility and your own whims. Yesterday you were certain that a new set of hammers would be perfectly adequate. Today, you’d changed your mind and nothing short of a war chariot would do. You were considering commissioning intricate carvings for the wheels (all reading, ‘ _Y/N is better/stronger/smarter than Kili’_ ) over lunch when you were rudely interrupted.

“So, you and Kili, eh?” Fili plopped down across the dining table and gave you a measured look.

“Yep,” you said and shoveled more food into your face.

“And you  _actually_  love him?” He stabbed a finger to the table, his brows radiating skepticism.

“I do.”

“Wow,” Fili said and you raised your own brows. “I just… wow. Really?”

“Yes? Why is that so surprising?”

“Because it’s Kili.”

“Oh, he is going to be so cross when I tell him you said that.”

“It’s only… he’s my baby brother! I can’t imagine anyone loving him. I mean, more than Amad and Uncle and I love him.”

“I know. It’s a curse I must bear.”

“Would you stop referring to me as a curse?” Kili trudged over, having just finished with training. Sweaty, dirty and a bit worn down, he looked almost as filthy as he had on the quest. He sat on the bench beside you, winding his arms around your waist. He was slowly becoming bolder in his touches, deciding to wrap himself bodily around you rather than rely on caresses and coy looks.

“Ah, would you prefer 'burden’?” You squirmed in his arms. “Or 'parasite’?”

“Mmf,” he shoved his face into your arm and you sighed.

“Kili.”

“Mmf?”

“I need my arm to eat.”

“No. Mine.”

“You smell awful.”

“You do too.”

“Only because you’ve rubbed yourself all over me. Now release my arm, you foul beast, or I will be forced to destroy you.”

He groaned and shifted, releasing your arm but not the rest of you, choosing to nestle in at your side, his face firmly against your shoulder. Fili chuckled and you looked up from your plate. He was staring at you both strangely, smiling.

“What?”

“I suppose I didn’t see it before.”

“See what?”

“From you, I mean. From Kili? Always. But you?” He didn’t answer his own question, merely shrugged and sauntered from the room.

“What’d he mean by that?”

“Mfm.”

“I can’t understand you,  _Kili-coo_.”

“I made you something,” Kili said instead of answering, pulling away from you but only slightly. He slapped his hand on the table and snatched it away to reveal a blue velvet sachet emblazoned with his seal.

“What’s this then?” you asked but Kili only snuggled closer, holding you tight. You sighed and set aside your utensils to open the small bag. Something glinted against the dark fabric and you reached in to pull it out. He'd… he’d made you a  _necklace_  of all things. You held it by the chain, letting the medallion hang loose, rotating slowly and catching the light. It was a single ruby, carefully cut and polished, set in delicate winding silver. Impossibly tiny and intricate carvings ran along the edge, showcasing not only Kili’s skill but a level of patience you never thought him capable of.

“You like it?” he asked after a moment, his voice warm and muffled in your back.

“Yes, of course,” you said and swallowed, fighting back a sudden warmth in your gut. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m supposed to be courting you.”

“Oh, right.” You flushed. “Help me put it on, yeah?”

Kili instantly sat back to take the chain, looping it around your neck. He brushed your hair away carefully, his fingers grazing your neck. Once clasped, you turned to him.

“How’s it look?” You made a point of posing ridiculously, bosom out and lips pursed, a caricature of the ladies of court.

“It's– it really…  _yeah_ ,” he sighed, his eyes soft.

“Balin would be truly impressed with your vocabulary.”

“Oh, shut it.”

“No, really, he would. I mean, how does one encapsulate the vision that is me? ’ _Yeah_.’ Sheer poetry.”

“I’m not going to talk to you anymore.”

“ _Finally_.”

He was quiet for all of two seconds, his forehead falling to your shoulder. “You really do look beautiful.“

"Thank you. I mean that. All joking aside, it’s amazing, Kili.” You felt his smile against your back. “Whomever you choose to court is going to be blown away,” you whispered but Kili didn’t respond. You cleared your throat. “I have something for you too, you know.”

“Yeah?”

You socked him in the arm.

 

* * *

 

Time passed, as it usually does, and before you knew it a full two months had gone by. Two months of Kili’s 'courting’ and thus far… well, you couldn’t say it was horrible. Kili continued to give you gifts, as was expected, each more lovely than the last; a new set of swords, more breathtaking jewelry, he’d even tripped an elvish dignitary after the pointy-eared arse called you a foul name. He was selling your courtship incredibly well. You felt a bit guilty, honestly. You were just…  _you_. Teasing, crude and not the least bit deserving of all this attention.

At some point – any day now, surely – he’d declare your 'courtship’ sufficient and things would return to how they’d always been. You’d have your friend back and you could rest easy knowing you didn’t have to worry about him when he did pick a mate. He’d woo them to pieces and you’d be fine with that. You would! You’d be perfectly content as you watched him embrace someone else, give them his time and attention, look at them fondly with his stupid, big brown eyes and–  _ow_. Oh, there went your stomach again. Why did that keep happening? Your stomach kept clenching like you’d eaten something spoilt, but you’d been careful with your diet since it’d started rebelling a handful of days ago. Maybe you needed to go see Oín. Ugh, you hated visiting healers. In the meantime, you had things to do. Things that needed delivering.

You’d been trying to track down your 'intended’ all day and of course, the one time having him follow you around like a puppy would’ve been useful, he was nowhere to be seen. You finally found him, emerging from the council chambers with, well, the entire council. No wonder you couldn’t find him, it seems he’d actually been performing his duties. For once.

“Kili!” you hollered, paying no mind to those around him. He looked your way, his face instantly brightening as you tucked your package casually under your arm and made your approach. “There you are, I thought you’d fallen down a mineshaft.”

“Aw, were you worried about me?”

“Yes. I am always worried about you, Kili,” you said solemnly, “You are worrisome.”

“Thanks,” Kili grumbled.

“Though your hair finally falls into a slightly better category. Is it actually clean?”

“Yes. I do bathe you know.”

You gasped. “By Durin, I had no idea.”

Fili, also in his full court regalia, snickered and it finally registered that you were being watched from all angles, though most were looking on with some degree of amusement. Kili cleared his throat.

“If you would all excuse me, I’d like to…” Kili shrugged and gestured toward you.

“Of course, of course!” a dwarrowdam with a long grey beard interrupted, smiling good-naturedly, “Don’t say I ever stood in the way of young love!”

“Aha, yeah,” Kili stuttered, flushing slightly. He put a hand on the small of your back to gently guide you away and down the hall.

You glanced back at the group. “Well, that wasn’t embarrassing for you at all, was it?”

“You’re the one who charged over and started talking about my hair.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so… put together.” He did look more 'princely’ than usual. His hair was clean, braided and out of his face, his circlet straight, his clothes pressed and worn correctly. He looked… nice. Handsome, even.

“Thank you, I guess.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Now, what did you need me for?”

“Oh! Well, I have something for you,” you said and Kili took up a battle stance.

’M'ready.“

"No, I mean,” you huffed and held out your gift. “Here.”

“What?” His eyes widened.

“Eh, it’s nothing, you know. Nothing as nice as what you’ve given me, but I made it and it helps our story.” You waited and Kili stared. You grunted and pushed it against his chest. “Take it already.”

He finally seemed to wake and took the package. He tore at the wrapping –  _not a difficult task, you were terrible with such things and it was barely covered to begin with_  – and inhaled a quiet gasp. “You made this?”

“Believe it or not, I do have some skill.”

“I love it.”

“Yeah?”

Kili seemed to glow, grinning as he hugged the handmade quiver to his chest. The blasted thing had taken you ages and a fair amount of blood given how many times you’d stabbed yourself with the sewing needle. But now the carefully polished leather gleamed right alongside Kili. “I’m going to use it right now.”

He turned about but stopped short. He whipped back to you and his eyes narrowed. Then he lunged, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. In an instant he dashed off, leaving you dumbfounded but content.

Someone laughed from down the hall, startling out of your daze. Seems the council had yet to disperse. What were they all looking at?

“Shut up,” you snapped at no one in particular and stomped off, face ablaze.

 

* * *

 

“He looks like a chicken,” you said, watching as Kili made his ungraceful way across the dance floor. “No, a headless chicken walking through molasses.”

“Not a very flattering description.” Fili tilted his head to observe his brother, then grimaced. “But I dare say you’re right.”

“It’s why you won’t find me out there, flailing about.” You gazed down into your ale, glad that you weren’t the only one avoiding the dance. You avoided dancing in general (all that needless  _bouncing_ ), but this particular group dance was new and complicated to the point of idiocy. It involved plucking one’s knees up to near chest level and more spins than were prudent. But it was  _new_  and therefore fashionable, particularly when entertaining dignitaries. The only one who managed to look even mildly competent was Dori, but that wasn’t a surprise – he had more courtly manners in one little finger than most royalty had put together.

You fiddled with the ruby pendant resting on your chest, watching Kili huff and puff through the next set of steps, his face going redder by the second. “Ten gold pieces says he passes out.”

“How heartless. Fifteen.”

“Done.”

You shook hands with Fili and turned back to the catastrophe of a dance floor. Kili whirled, weaving his way through the dancers, clapping and flinging his hair about. Then he looked at you and grinned. You sighed and shook your head in exaggerated disapproval. He nodded emphatically and crossed his eyes, puffing his cheeks out in a ridiculous, childish display. It was  _fantastic_.

He continued to pull faces at you, ducking and jumping and whipping around to maintain eye contact from across the floor and through the other dancers. You pursed your lips in an attempt to maintain your composure but he kept at it. His face popped up over the crowd, mouth wide open in a silent scream, and you had to bite your fist to hold back your mirth. You stuck your tongue out at him and the next time his face appeared (from between another dancer’s legs) his look of comedic outrage sent you doubling over in laughter. The dance ended abruptly - another sign of its lunacy - and Kili skittered to a halt, nearly barreling over a much shorter dancer. You watched him bow and carefully apologize to the offended dwarf before shooting you one last exaggerated grimace.

“Well, that was fun to watch,” Fili said with a laugh.

“If by fun you mean torturous.”

“You seemed to be having a good time,” Fili quipped and held out a hand, “And you owe me fifteen gold pieces.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You pulled out your purse and began counting out coins into Fili’s palm. Kili made his way over, breathing heavily.

“I’m fairly certain that dwarf was ready to cut off my braids for stepping on his 'new boots.’ I swear, does being royalty mean any– why are you giving Fili money?”

“Because you have too much stamina.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“Fourteen and  _fifteen_. There, you win.” You dropped the last coin and turned to Kili. “In this instance, yes.”

“Did you… bet against me? In a  _dance_?”

“Maybe.”

“She did,” Fili said simply, depositing the coins into one of his many pockets.

“ _Betrayed_! Oh, a depth of betrayal I have never known!” Kili cried, hand to his heart, “How will I ever recover from such a–”

“Excuse me, your highness?”

You collectively turned. There stood a short, plump dam with soft features and bright eyes, her cheeks coloring attractively at the sudden attention of the group. Her dark hair and beard were pulled into an elaborate style and peppered with jewels, her lavender dress the epitome of the newest style (pastels were “ _in_ ,” as Dori had so unnecessarily informed you), and she stood patiently, politely and with the utmost confidence. You didn’t recognize her from anywhere but could immediately recognize that she was beautiful.

“Yes?” Kili responded.

She curtsied. “Begging your pardon, but I was wondering if I may ask you to join me for the next dance?”

Kili eyes widened and he blinked a handful of times before looking at you. “I, I, uh…”

She seemed to notice the shift in his attention. “That is if you do not already have a partner.”

There was a bit of a pause that had the potential to go awkward if it dragged any longer. Clearly, Kili was hesitating for your benefit; dancing was an important part of courtship and you hadn’t yet danced together tonight. But it wasn’t a  _real_  courtship, and she had no idea he was 'spoken for’, so why should he hold himself back from other potential matches?

“Oh, go on,” you whispered, growing exasperated. Kili looked at you carefully, brow scrunched in concern. “Go! Have fun!”

“I… I suppose I don’t have a partner at the moment, no,” he said with some reluctance, but took her hand nevertheless. He gave you one last look over his shoulder as he went to join the dance and you shot him an encouraging smile. At least you hoped it was encouraging, it was suddenly difficult to maintain a cheery look and your cheeks twitched a bit.

Fili clucked and took a swig of his ale. “Seems he has all the luck.”

“Yeah.”

“Since we both find ourselves without partners, would you care to dance, Y/N?”

“…No. I don't– I don’t dance.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling a bit ill, honestly.”

“Oh? Should I get Oín?”

“No, no,” you denied with a wave of your hand. Fili gave you a very serious look and you forced a laugh. “Bit too much ale, I think.”

“If you’re sure.” Fili shrugged and set down his mug. “Then I’m off! There’s bound to be someone about who’d be willing to take a turn with me.”

“Care to make a wager of it?” You said around another unexpectedly difficult smile.

“Nah, you know I’d win,” Fili threw over his shoulder as he walked away. Distantly you heard him engage a group of dams, all of whom tittered excitedly. Yeah, no, he would have won and you only had so much gold to your name to fritter away on bets.

Watching the sidelines slowly empty of dwarves, you resigned yourself to the role of 'lone spectator’. You easily found Kili in the crowd, tall as he was, standing before his partner as they waited for the music to begin. They were chatting and Kili laughed at something she said, grinning in his usual way. Your stomach fell. The music began and Kili took her hands. Your stomach churned. It was a much simpler, less lively dance, arranged in pairs rather than a group, perfect for getting to know one another. They spun about, the picture of romantic elegance, eyes locked on each other. You nearly wretched. Kili said something. She giggled and flushed. He gave her a small, shy smile.  _You wanted to die._ Blaming the ale, you fled the room and retreated down the hall with the intent of retiring to your rooms.

You didn’t get far before you crumbled against a wall and curled in on yourself, surprised as your eyes began to fill with tears. You hadn’t cried due to an injury in years. The pain would pass. The pain would pass. It would pass, surely.  _Gods, it hurt so much._

You couldn’t say how long you sat there, alone in the corridor, sobbing quietly before someone called your name.

“Y/N!”

Oh, gods,  _Kili_. You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and tried to pick yourself up off the floor, but Kili beat you to it, sliding down on his knees in front of you.

“Are you alright? Fili said you felt ill and then you were gone and I–”

“I’m fine. I just,” your voice was remarkably watery and shaky. You took a deep, labored breath, “I needed a break.”

“Have you been crying? I’m getting Oín.”

“No! I’m fine, I promise– Kili!” But he’d already jumped up and sprinted away. You groaned and debated the merits of getting up and leaving. But you didn’t trust yourself to get far.

You heard Kili returning before you saw him, a cacophony of nonsense filtering down the hall before he appeared, dragging a protesting Oín beside him. When Kili saw you, he broke from the healer and raced to your side, looking wild and worried. His hair had started coming down from his braids, you noticed.

“Now, what’s all the fuss?” Oín said as he made his much slower approach.

“Y/N is hurt.”

“I’m fine, Kili.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Oín sniffed and knelt on your other side. “What’s the matter?”

You sighed, feeling incredibly silly. “My stomach.”

“What about it?”

“It’s been hurting.” You hesitated then admitted, “On and off for the past few weeks.”

“Weeks?!” Kili looked positively outraged. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it was anything to worry about. The pain always went away.  _Eventually_.”

“And you’re hurting now?” Oín asked over Kili’s outraged gasp.

“A bit.”

“She was crying, Oín.”

“Oh, shut up and go back to the dance. I’m fine,” you objected.

“Why would I go back if you’re in pain?”

“Isn’t she waiting for you?”

“Who?”

“The pretty dam you were dancing with.”

“She’s dancing with Fili.”

“What?”

“I saw you were gone and passed her off. She didn’t mind.”

“…Oh.”

You were all quiet for a moment and Oín sighed.

“Let me guess. The pain centers around this one?” Oín asked tiredly and shoved a thumb in Kili’s direction.

Kili balked, “Me? I didn’t do–”

“Maybe?” You answered.

“Wait, what do I have to do with–”

“And you feel better now?”

“Yes, but… It really hurt.”

“Aye. I expect it would.” The healer stood and brushed the dust from his trousers.

“Expect what would?”

“Anxiety. Jealousy. It happens. You,” Oín pointed at Kili. “Reassure your intended and she’ll be fine, I promise. Weeks of this,  _tsk_ , so unhealthy. And you.” He turned sharply to you. “Stop it. He’s not going anywhere. This lovesick fool is insufferable when you’re not around, so I doubt you’ve anything to worry about. Now, I was in the middle of a nice meat pie that’s probably gone cold thanks to you two.”

You gaped as Oín made his way back toward the party, not entirely sure how to process what just happened. Left alone, you were both quiet, neither daring to look at the other.

“You were jealous?” Kili asked quietly.

“No,” you said, but even you didn’t believe it. “Lovesick?”

“No. Well, maybe a little,” he admitted. “I would’ve danced with you, you know.”

You stared at your boots. “I’m a terrible dancer.”

“I still would’ve danced with you. I  _wanted_  to dance with you,” Kili sighed and sat back against the wall beside you, “I want to do most things with you.”

“Oh,” you said, then added at a whisper, “I want to do most things with you too.”

“Things like… kiss me?”

You finally looked up. Kili was blushing furiously but his smile was soft. Your stomach fluttered in an entirely new and pleasant way.

“Of course not.” You let panicked shock cross his face for half a second, then leaned in to peck him on the mouth. “Why would I ever want to do something like that?” You kissed him again. “Disgusting.”

He grinned and reached up to cup your face, pulling you in for another kiss. “An absolutely repulsive idea.” And another. “Don’t know why I brought it up.” Another and you let this one last, savoring the feel of his lips against yours, how  _right_  it felt.

You pulled away slightly to breathe, “I swear I’m going to be ill.” Then dove right back in, letting yourself drown in the kiss, in Kili, winding your hands into his hair and all but climbing into his lap in an effort to get closer. You were so lost in each other that it took a startled gasp from down the hall to break you apart.

You giggled and let your head fall to his shoulder as your audience fled, feeling very silly but very, very happy. Kili’s hand trailed down your back and your entire body sang at the contact.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re really courting, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I don’t know what happened, but y'know. I love you. I guess.”

You glanced up to see Kili smile, then ducked back down to his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head softly. “I knew it.”

“Don’t get a big head. Just because I love you doesn’t mean you’re not an idiot.”

“You keep saying it.”

“What?”

“That you love me.”

“Well, it’s true, so.”

“I love you too.”

You sat together, wrapped up in each other for a quiet moment.

“I figured out what I want, by the way,” you said.

"What you want?”

“My price for our arrangement.”

“Oh?” He pulled away to look at you, grinning. “Is it me?”

“Ha!” you barked a laugh, “I’ve already got you, idiot. I want a pony.”

Kili wheezed, surprised laughter springing up. “Really?”

“Yes! I’m going to name him Kili II, to carry on your name.”

“Please don’t.”

“It’s too late. I’ve already decided.”

He paused, then cleared his throat. “Why settle when you can ride the real thing?”

A silence and you smacked him on the shoulder.

“…That was awful and crude. How dare you.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah. Though I have no idea why." 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Amad_ \- Mother
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or come talk to me on [tumblr!](https://immawriteyouthings.tumblr.com)


End file.
